Identical
by AKA DD
Summary: Max wakes up from a coma with broken memories and believes Alec is Ben. What does she reveal? MA and MB at the same time for obvious reasons.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:**** Dark Angel isn't mine. I'm just playing with the characters to amuse myself and waste a bunch of time that ought to be spent on studying for my NS10 finals which is on Friday.**

**A/N****: This fic was supposed to be my first step into the M/B world (I mean, Ben was also Jensen and all…), but I'm too hung up on Alec…so now, it's a weird M/B/A kind of triangle going…one day, one day, I'll write a real M/B piece after I've purged all of Alec out of my system. It might be a while, but it'll happen. It's gonna be about three or four chapters to sort out the mess.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

It had been five years since the Siege at Terminal City, two years since the worldwide exposure of the Breeding Cult, and a year since the war with the Cult had been declared. In the end, they had won the war. But victory did not come without a price…and damn if they hadn't paid the price.

There had been thousands of casualties the world over: men, women, children, Human, Familiar, and Transgenic alike. None had been spared in the war for racial domination—a war of survival. Still, in the end, they had won. In the end, he had held on to a dying girl in his arms, his face uplifted to the heavens that he had never once believed in. Only two words had slipped from his lips at that moment, a desperate plea for a miracle, "Help me," he'd whispered.

Then a team had whisked her away from him, and he had been left staring at his bloodied hands. He had knelt amidst the rubble, not even realizing that he had been crying. His hands had trembled as he realized that the sacrifice for the right to live had a price tag he wasn't sure he could afford to pay.

"Mr. McDowell! Alec!"

The voice broke through Alec's dark memories and he looked up quickly, his expression guarded. He had been sitting in the hospital cafeteria, staring at the same untouched cup of coffee for the last half-hour. He was exhausted, depleted. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and slip into the nothingness of a dreamless sleep.

But even his dreams wouldn't let him rest.

He could still hear her scream. He could still feel her blood trickle between his fingers as he desperately tried to stop the flow. He could still see the terror in her eyes as she looked at him before they had dimmed and had fallen closed.

No, he couldn't rest, not until she was back with him.

"Alec! You need to get up there quickly! She's waking up!" cried the young male nurse, finally reaching Alec's side.

Immediately, he was on his feet and running up the three flights of stairs to her room in the ICU. He paused at her door, his breath hitching. It never failed to make him sick to his stomach to see her laying there, not in the two months since she'd been brought here. Not even when he'd walked into the same room every single day of those two months.

She was so small. So still. So _vulnerable_. How was it that Max could look so vulnerable?

He approached the bed carefully. A doctor and a few interns were standing close by, monitoring all of her vital statistics as her mind broke through the surface of consciousness. "She's coming to," whispered Doctor Evans. "But, we need to make sure that she's not startled. She'll need to see a familiar face."

Alec nodded, his heart beating painfully and hopefully in his chest. He leaned over her, a hand gently cradling her face. His thumb caressed her cheek and he whispered tenderly, "Hey, welcome back,"

* * *

"_Hey, welcome back,"_

The voice pulled Max out of the fog of unconsciousness. She desperately wanted to sink back into the darkness of oblivion. Her body felt so cold, so tired. Her limbs were like dead weight, her lungs ached with each breath, and her head felt like a railroad spike had been driven into it.

"Max, please wake up," But the voice insisted with such longing that she had to listen. And it was warm and gentle. It beckoned her, promising love and safety and warmth. She needed those right now. She needed them so much.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she was greeted by a pair of beautiful hazel-green eyes, clouded with concern. The moment those eyes locked with hers, those clouds cleared away, and she could see them shining with love down at her. She knew those eyes. Her gaze wandered over his face and took in every inch of him: his strong forehead, the deep set eyes, the perfectly straight nose, the high cheekbones, the sculpted lips, the strong jaw, and even the slight cleft on his chin—they were all so familiar.

So _beloved_.

She raised her hand up, to touch his face. She felt a small frown wrinkle her brow. Odd, but her arm wouldn't budge. She focused all her will into moving it. She wanted—no, _needed_—to touch this beloved face. If only to find out that he really was there. She'd missed him so much.

Finally, her arm reached out and she let her fingers splay lovingly across his face. For a moment, her numb senses didn't register the touch. But the warmth of his skin spread over her fingertips, warming her—bring her to life. The warmth of the touch, the reminder that she was truly alive made her whimper softly. Soon her fingers traced and outlined the same path her eyes had taken, caressing his brows, those lips. Tears filled her eyes at the poignancy of the moment. "I've missed you so much," she whispered lovingly.

* * *

Alec leaned over Max as she came out of her coma. It had been too long since he had seen those brown eyes. He wanted to erase the memory of the last time he had seen them, when she lay dying in his arms—just as the light had dulled in them and turned lifeless.

"Max, please wake up," he whispered, his voice longing for her to come back to him. He let his emotions bleed into his voice, hoping that it would reach her, and finally pull her through.

Her eyes fluttered open, slightly hazy, but with the familiar light behind them. Relief washed over him and his heart constricted as those gold-flecked brown orbs immediately sought and locked with his. He stared at her, showing her his relief, his…love.

His breath caught as she struggled for a second to move. Then her hand touched his face, her fingers dancing lightly over his skin. She moved them delicately across his features, as if trying to memorize them…or remembering them. She was looking at him with an almost unbearable gentleness, a quiet love that he knew must have come from deep inside. She was still too weak and vulnerable to be putting up the emotional shields that he knew she had worn everyday of her life.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse from months without use.

Alec's heart skipped a beat. He swallowed painfully. "I've missed you, too, Maxie,"

She dropped her arm wearily. Her throat constricted a few times as she struggled to say more. "You always loved me, didn't you?" she asked softly.

Alec's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. How had she known? How could she know how he felt? He had never told her. There had never been a right time, or even a slight opportunity for them. Terminal City and the survival of the Transgenics had always been first on their list. Throughout the years, he had loved her, but he had always been so careful to mask his emotions with their usual banter and fights.

But he smiled at her, knowing that this was no time to be hiding behind masks and lies. "Yes, Maxie, I've always loved you," he replied, his voice calm and strong. "I love you now."

She nodded slightly, obviously tiring. "I'm glad you're here," she said, her voice slowly faltering. She moved her hand over to his, and he held onto it. "I've always loved you, too, Ben."

Then she closed her eyes, missing the myriad of emotions that chased after each other on his face. She fell into a deep sleep, a smile of contentment on her face.

* * *

Alec couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His mind was a jumble of confusing thoughts and emotions.

She thought he was _Ben_.

He closed his eyes and sighed wearily, still gripping her hand. He pressed his lips together tightly until they were a thin, white line. He was angry. No, angry was too tame a word to describe how he felt. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of hatred and jealousy. Like he was burning inside from the fury that raged inside of him. Like he was dying inside from the pain that was squeezing his heart until it hurt to breathe.

It was an old and familiar pain. An old and familiar fear. It was something he wondered if he would ever outgrow. Apparently, it was something that would never leave him alone. How could he _ever_ compete with his dead twin?

Every time she looked at him, she saw Ben. No matter how many times she had denied it in the past. The proof was here and now. She had seen _his_ face and had only thought of _Ben_. He tried to chase away the bitterness that rose in him like bile.

Would she ever be able to see him, Alec, without the ghost of his twin superimposed over him?

He didn't know if Max would ever be able to love him, knowing that he looked exactly like Ben. Knowing that she had loved his twin; loved him enough to take on the guilt and horror of killing him; loved him so much that even seven years after his death, he still lived inside of her.

How could he ever be someone other than Ben's twin to her?

Alec finally released her hand and walked stiffly out the door to where the doctor was waiting. He stepped out of the room and cocked an eyebrow at the older man.

"Her vital stats are strong. She's doing well. Her transgenic body has long since fully recovered from her injuries," Doctor Evans categorized, glancing at his chart. "She's going to be in pain, but it will pass in a short time. The only thing I might be concerned with is her mental stability. There are some strange spikes on her brainwave patterns, but I've never treated a transgenic before, so it might be best to have a specialist look into it. Other than that, my only advice is to wait it out. That was quite a head injury she suffered, so we need to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary or memory losses for a couple of days."

Alec nodded, but didn't say anything about the mistaken identity. He would try again the next time she woke up. He would keep on trying until…he shook his head sadly. He didn't know how long he was going to keep on trying to fight for his place in her heart.

* * *

Max resurfaced into the world of consciousness again. She realized that she was in a dark room. Her eyes dilated to allow more light in so that she could see in the semi-darkness. She tried to move, but stopped. This time, her body no longer felt cold. It felt battered and bruised. Broken.

Fear suddenly seeped into her. She was broken. Nothing in the world could cause this much fear in her than knowing that she was vulnerable. Her breaths started to come out short and shallow. Her fingers clawed on the bed sheets. The rest of her body wouldn't move!

She started making gasping noises, realizing that she was no longer breathing. "No," she whispered into the darkness. She kicked her legs against the bed, arching her back, sending jolts of pain shooting through every joint.

"Max!"

She desperately sought the owner of the voice, her head thrashing left to right. Finally, they fell on the man rising quickly from a chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes found his face, registered the concern and the love, and she calmed down. "Help me," she whispered in a raspy voice.

The man sat by her bedside and stroked her hair soothingly. "Shh…you're safe," he whispered in that calming voice. "I'm here."

Her shaking fingers sought his hand, turning upward in a gesture of supplication and need. He noticed her actions, but she saw him hesitate for a second. _Why?_ "Ben?" she murmured into the darkness.

He stiffened for a second, closed his eyes, but laid his hand over hers, his fingers slipping perfectly between hers. His hand was warm, strong, slightly callused, but still gentle. She tightened her grip…it was like a lifeline to her pulling her out of her fear.

"I'm so scared," she admitted, "Don't leave me, Ben…"

"No, I'm here."

* * *

Alec had been napping uncomfortably in his seat in the corner of the room when he had been awoken by a rustling. Then he heard a quiet, desperate, "_No_!"

His eyes snapped open to find Max struggling in her bed. He could see her fear by her frantic actions. He had never seen Max panic before that he just sat there, a bit transfixed. Until she arched off the bed, her action a sign of sheer, desperate panic. He instantly shot up from his chair. "Max!" he cried worriedly. She could hurt herself. He rushed to her bedside, and saw her lock her eyes on his face, staring desperately at him. He swallowed, not sure if she was seeing him, or Ben.

But he went over to her anyway, and sat by her bed. Her brown eyes shone with a sheen of tears, and his heart ached for her. She looked so lost and so afraid. "Help me," she pleaded, her voice chafing against his heart.

He understood her fear and helplessness. Her body was still recovering, unused to movement and muscle tension for so long. "Shh…You're safe," he assured her. "I'm here."

She relaxed and calmed down. He reached over and ran his hands through her hair, like he had always wanted to do, but she had never been vulnerable enough to let him.

Then her fingers twitched against him. She turned her palm facing upwards, her fingers stretching over towards him. He hesitated. He wasn't sure he could handle that intimacy again knowing that he wasn't the one she wanted. But her fingers continued to extend towards him…

"Ben?"

His heart shattered as she called him by his twin's name again. He closed his eyes so she wouldn't see his pain. But his fingers inched towards her waiting hand. He laid his palm against hers and twined his fingers with hers and squeezed reassuringly. She needed someone at the moment and he couldn't—just _couldn't_—leave her. Her hand was surprisingly soft and delicate. He resisted the urge to let his thumb caress hers.

He saw the fear ebb from her eyes, her face relaxing. She tightened her grip and whispered, "I'm so scared…Don't leave me, Ben,"

Alec took a deep calming breath, letting another wave of pain wash over him, and then letting it pass. She needed someone at the moment, and for now, it didn't matter whether it was Ben…or Alec. He would be here for her. "No, I'm here."

She closed her eyes, but she didn't fall asleep like he thought she would. She kept her grip tight on his hand.

"Remember when we were kids?" she murmured, her eyes still closed. "Remember when I used to get the shakes?"

Alec didn't. That was a part of her life that belonged solely to his twin. So he stayed quiet. He held her hand and continued to stroke her hair reassuringly.

"You used to let me sleep on your bunk and hold me until the shakes passed."

He nodded. His twin must have really loved her even as a child. Ben had risked severe punishment for letting Max stay with him. It was poignant to know that even in the bleakness of Manticore, Max and Ben had still found a nameless emotion that they now knew as love.

"Hold me, Ben, like you used to," she pleaded.

Alec froze. He couldn't. He wanted her to ask Alec, not Ben! "Max, I don't think…"

But she opened her eyes. Those eyes could render a man helpless, and he found that he couldn't let her down. "Please…just this one time. I _need_ you."

There was such raw vulnerability in her request that Alec knew he couldn't refuse her. This was Max the Strong. Yet here she was just begging to be held. There was something desperately sad in their situation: a strong woman, broken by the world, begging to be comforted, and the wrong man bestowing that comfort, wishing she knew who he was.

Silencing the turmoil in his heart and mind, he nodded, and kicked off his shoes. He laid himself on the bed, on his side, and gathered her into his arms, her back against his chest. He tucked her head safely against the crook of his neck.

It shouldn't have, but God, it felt so _right_. He felt her lean against him like it was the most natural thing in the world, and he let his hands splay possessively against her flat stomach.

"I never told you before," she whispered into the darkness, "But thank you…"

Alec didn't know what to say to that. So he kept his silence, not wanting to respond. He thought about the irony of it all. Here she was, willingly in his arms, except that she thought he was his dead twin. If it didn't hurt so much, he might have laughed.

"Ben?"

Alec compressed his lips into a tight line. _No, Maxie, not Ben._ He only pulled her closer in response, unable to verbalize anything at the moment. He wasn't sure how tenuous her mental balance was. And he couldn't bring himself to recommend a psychiatric evaluation just yet. He was afraid that they might tell him he'd lost Max forever—that she would only be a shell of her former self, only kept alive because she was still the prophesized 'cure' for the apocalyptic Coming.

He shook his head and laid a gentle kiss on her hair.

* * *

Max closed her eyes and reveled at the way her hand fit in his. She knew that it had been so long since she had touched him, and somehow a part of her had known that she wasn't supposed to be holding on to his hand anymore. But she pushed away that part and just took pleasure in the simple act of holding his hand.

He comforted her soul. A memory assailed her…hazel eyes peering down at her with concern and love…warm arms enveloping her in a comforting embrace, chasing away the demons that wracked her body.

"Remember when we were kids?" she murmured, as the memory played in her mind like an old black-and-white silent movie. "Remember when I used to get the shakes?"

It felt odd that he stayed so quiet. She wanted to remind him of what he had been to her—what he still was. "You used to let me sleep on your bunk and hold me until the shakes passed." She reminded him. She felt oddly hurt that he couldn't seem to remember those moments.

She could still recall how he had looked down at her, all curled up on her bunk, shaking with seizures. How he had picked her up in his arms and laid her down against him on his own bunk. How he had been so gentle and comforting, absorbing the shock of her seizures against his own body—sharing her pain.

She desperately needed that right now. She wasn't seizing, but she felt like she was somewhere in a dark void, her body not her own, her mind desperately grasping at straws to remember what life was like. She knew that she wasn't well, and she was terrified.

He was her only lifeline. "Hold me, Ben, like you used to," she pleaded, opening her eyes.

She saw him tense up, as if in the grip of some strong emotion. Then he was shaking his head, "Max, I don't think…"

"Please…" she begged him, her voice coming out as a hoarse squeak. It hurt that he didn't want to hold her anymore…She felt a darkness roil over her and she gripped his hand, knowing it was the only thing keeping her from slipping back into hell. "Just this one time. I need you."

Finally, he relented and she could hear the soft thud as his shoes dropped onto the floor where he kicked them off. She felt the mattress depress as he laid himself down next to her. He pulled her into his arms and wrapped her in a warm, solid, embrace. The darkness left her and she felt at peace. Loved. Safe.

She realized that this was how she had always felt whenever he had held her close those terrifying nights in her youth. And she realized, she'd never said anything to him before... She felt a keen sense of loss at the thought. _Before what?_ But her mind only answered her with a numbing darkness. "I never told you before, but thank you," she whispered, knowing at least this once, she had told him how much this meant to her.

He was so silent, so still. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heart so close to her ear. She felt her own heart, that had only moments before been beating too slow, respond to and match the strength of his pace.

"Ben?"

She was answered by another taut silence. But he pulled her closer. She felt soft lips drop a gentle kiss on her hair. Strange, but she never remembered him doing that. Nevertheless, it felt right.

"Remember those stories that you used to tell me when I couldn't sleep at night?" she asked, suddenly driven by the need to tell him everything. He was the only thing she remembered and she wanted to share her memories and what they meant to her with him.

"Mmm…" he murmured, the sound reverberating through his chest, making her smile.

"My favorite was the one about the butterfly," she continued in a soft whisper. "I was sad that I didn't have pretty hair like one of the pictures the guards had in his pocket. And you told me that I was going to be a butterfly…"

"…_you're going to grow up, Maxie, and be the most beautiful butterfly in the world." said a boy with cropped dark blond hair, his hands forming a shadow puppet of a butterfly against the dull gray walls of their barracks._

"_Really, Ben?" asked a dark-eyed, moppet with shorn dark hair. Then the little girl wrinkled her nose. "Does that mean that I'm a caterpillar now? Because I don't think I'm that ugly."_

_The tall green-eyed boy smiled charmingly at the baby of his Unit. "Don't worry, you're gonna be a butterfly soon…" Then worry had clouded his eyes as the little girl started to shake. He gathered this beloved one into his arms and rocked her soothingly. "And then, you'll be free to fly away from here. I promise."_

"I never thanked you, Ben," whispered Max, tears slipping down her cheek. "I knew they were coming for me next because of my shakes. I never thanked you for telling Zack that we had to leave…so that I could live."

"I never told you thank you for keeping the darkness from me," she sobbed. Warm arms held her tight. Incoherent words of comfort were whispered. But suddenly, Max stiffened as she was assaulted by a new memory, one that shattered her.

"You kept the darkness from taking me…but I couldn't do it for you."

* * *

"Remember those stories that you used to tell me when I couldn't sleep at night?"

Alec tightened his jaw. No, he didn't, because he wasn't Ben. He never shared these memories with Max. It left a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that his twin brother had staked first claim on her—and somehow had never let go, even in death.

Nevertheless, he was strangely fascinated by the relationship they had. His own Unit at Manticore had never shown any signs or inkling towards this kind of development. Sure, they had all talked to each other at night, but none of them had ever crossed any lines for each other. He was suddenly interested in hearing these stories.

"Mmm…" was all he could muster—he didn't want to acknowledge that he was pretending to be Ben, but he was curious to hear her continue.

"My favorite was the one about the butterfly," she continued in a soft whisper. "I was sad that I didn't have pretty hair like one of the pictures the guards had in his pocket. And you told me that I was going to be a butterfly…"

She told the story with an innocent candor—the way her memory replayed it to her. He listened attentively to the fairy tale. He had to hand it to his brother, he knew how to cheer Max up. Even now, just telling the story, he could feel her body melt into relaxation, her voice held a slight note of childish enchantment.

Alec soon realized that he couldn't hate Ben. He had loved Max in the best way he had known at the age of twelve. He had comforted a broken child and had given her hope. He had sacrificed everything to give her faith and a chance to live. No, he couldn't hate his brother.

"I never thanked you, Ben," she whispered, her voice solemn. "I knew they were coming for me next because of my shakes. I never thanked you for telling Zack that we had to leave…so that I could live."

Alec suddenly realized that Max was crying. He dared not move, afraid of doing the wrong thing. He let her continue, allowing her the release of her tears.

"I never told you thank you for keeping the darkness from me," she continued to sob.

Alec's heart broke for her, he held her tightly, hoping she would understand that even when he wasn't Ben, he could give her that at least. "Shhh…it's okay, shhh…" he murmured against her hair.

But suddenly, Max stiffened in his arms. He relaxed his hold slightly, knowing that tightening it would only be misconstrued as an attack when a person reacted this way. Then he heard her aching whisper: "You kept the darkness from taking me…but I couldn't do it for you."

Alec's blood ran cold. He swiftly realized that she was hurtling through time from her childhood to the last time she had seen Ben. He wanted to spare her the pain of those memories.

While Max was being broken inside Manticore, Ben had been broken by the outside world. Alec had known that his twin had been an exceptional soldier. Ben had reveled in the tenets of discipline, duty, mission, and loyalty to Manticore. He had been exactly as Manticore had designed him to be. Except for one flaw: he loved a girl named Max.

In the end, Ben had forfeited his own destiny to ensure hers. In the end, he had been the one to break.

"Max, it's not your fault," he assured her, hoping his voice didn't startle her.

"Liar!" she cried, her voice strong and loud, tinged with roughness. "Don't lie to me!" She started to struggle against him and he let her go, knowing that restraining her would only hurt her more.

She tried to get off the bed, but only succeeded in sliding out of it, sliding down onto the floor in a hysterical puddle. "It's all my fault, Ben, all of it."

Alec hopped off on the opposite side of the bed and skirted cautiously around it to approach Max. She was sitting with her back pressed against the wall, her legs pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around those legs. She was staring into the darkness, oblivious of everything.

"You saved me, and I killed you…"

**

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**

**A/N2:**** I'm stopping here for now before it becomes a train wreck. I need to re-think and re-evaluate the direction of this story…but I'm posting it anyway, because I think that even if I never finish, it can stand on its own. Read and Review and give me suggestions. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer****: Same old, same old: ain't mine.**

**A/N****: Here's the next installment. Hope you guys like where it's headed.

* * *

**

She was assaulted by memories, snippets of them, voices-so many of them-were ringing in her head. She couldn't tell who was talking but she heard them…she could only see Ben in a sea of namelessness and facelessness.

Only Ben.

_Tell us the story Ben… _Children's voices echoed through her head.

_Only the best soldiers go to the Good Place. The ones who fail…you know what happens to them? _Ben's childish voice was lowered in a hushed whisper.

_They disappear. _Max's shivered reply.

_To the Bad Place. _Ben confirmed, his voice a warning.

The scene faded and Max was propelled through time.

…_.Ben, what are you, doing?... _

A whispered plea into the night air as she sat atop a high place looking down at the twinkling lights of some nameless city. Max's heart ached, her mind swimming in confusion.

_Ben killed those men. You heard me. He __**killed**__ them. _An accusing voice, also nameless and faceless, but strong and certain. Each word stabbed at her, forcing her to acknowledge a truth she refused to see.

_If your brother was a murderer, would you want people to know? _If the boy you used to love had turned out to be a murderer, would you want people to know? Would _you_ want to know? Max knew in her heart that she didn't.

_Ben, why are you dong this? _A confused question, a pleading look. Please…make this right, Ben. It's all a mistake. Tell me it's just a mistake.

_You know why._

A vision of Ben filled her mind's eye. Older, and more beautiful, a strange gleam in his eyes, his lips bared in a sneer. She had never seen him so _cold_, so calculating. He had been completely distant from her, completely untouchable. It was like she didn't know him at all.

She had never felt a loss so keen as finding Ben that day. To search for someone only to find him lost to her…wishing that she had never found him at all.

…_figure out what went wrong with you… _

_Nothing went wrong with me! I'm doing what I was made to do. What we were taught to do! _An angry outburst, like rage exploding from a volcano. Bitterness, pain, regret raining down with it.

_You're one of the few people who could possibly understand. _An angry allegation, a reminder of what she was.

_I __**don't**__ understand. _A denial ripped from her heart.

_What's the matter, __**Maxie**__, you afraid to remember? _A warm voice, taunting, golden green eyes mocking, beautiful lips twisted in a derisive sneer.

_**I don't want to remember**__. _The most honest answer from a girl whose whole life was a lie.

"I don't want to remember…" she whimpered. "I don't want to remember…" Her hands went to cover her ears, to drown the voices out. She was rocking back and forth to comfort herself. But the onslaught of memories continued.

_You give them your barcode, then you hunt them down and kill them. Don't you get it? __**You're killing yourself over and over again!**_

A laugh echoed through…hysterical, it was almost like a cry.

_Do you hate yourself that much? _She demanded, but her question was only answered by a gleam of madness in his eyes.

_No. You're the nomlie. The genetic mistake. The monster in the basement._ She had said those words to him in anger. Hurtful words to counteract the pain he was rending in her. Hurtful words cast like stones to hurt his bones. Hurtful words to protect herself. What if _she_ was the nomlie? What if _she_ was the genetic mistake? What if _she_ was the monster in the basement? Was that why she was always running away from herself?

_We never should have left. Everything made sense there. _To him, everything made sense there.

There…there…Manticore. She remembered Manticore.

"No, Ben. Manticore didn't make sense…_it didn't!"_ she screamed, her hands still against her ears, her fingers clawing into her skull, her eyes tightly shut. Warm arms tried to hold her, but she fought them as much as her body would let her. She refused to be held. She opened her eyes and saw his face. She lifted her hand and slapped him. "_I hate you!"_

"Max, get a grip!" cried the man. He was holding her by her upper arms, holding her up because her legs wouldn't support her. His grip was so tight. It was painful, almost bone-breaking.

She glimpsed the anger that lit his eyes. But there was mostly concern. And she remembered his love for her. Her fury died, only to be left with despair. "Ben, why are you doing this?" she sobbed.

She saw more anger flare up, but he kept rigid control of it. But Max was so tired. She never heard his whispered answer, as the darkness engulfed her, as she slumped against him in a boneless heap. The darkness of her despair and fears had won tonight.

* * *

Alec was worried. He watched Max crouched against the wall. She had shut her eyes and was rocking rhythmically back and forth, caught up inside her own head.

He approached her soundlessly, slowly, not wanting to frighten her. He paused slightly as her lids began to twitch, the way eyes do when in deep REM sleep. She whimpered slightly and Alec didn't know what to do. She was reliving something in a dream—no, a nightmare—but somehow Alec knew that she wasn't asleep.

Her lips were forming soundless words. Her face was undergoing several different emotions. But her eyes remained shut, twitching. It was the eeriest sight Alec had ever seen.

"I don't want to remember…" she whimpered. "I don't want to remember…" Alec barely heard her whispered moans. She threw her hands against her ears and her body rocked harder back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes she hit the wall so hard, it really concerned him that she might be hurting herself. She continued her five-word litany under her breath.

He took a few more steps toward her, not sure what kind of comfort to give her. Whatever memories she didn't want to remember seemed unrelenting. Suddenly, she slipped back into that ghostlike quiet.

Alec crept closer and knelt an arm's length away from her. She didn't seem to notice that he was there. He was still afraid to touch her, not sure whether he should have called for help or if he should have just left her alone. No, he wouldn't leave her alone. He had promised her. Even if she had thought he was Ben, he had still made the promise.

"No, Ben. Manticore didn't make sense…_it didn't!_" she screamed, her voice splitting the tenuous silence. Alec was startled by the unexpected outburst and almost jumped back from Max. Her eyes were still closed, but tears were still flowing freely through the lids. She was clawing at her head, as if she wanted to tear out the memories inside.

Alec couldn't take it anymore—he couldn't just stand there and watch her suffer like this. He wrapped his arms around her. She fought him. Even in her weakened state she put up a fight. Alec struggled to keep his arms gentle but firm. He didn't want to break her.

Her body arched against his wildly as he forced them to stand up, her fingers turned into claws scraping painfully on his arms and shoulders. He gritted his teeth against the pain. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

There was such burning anger in them, and betrayal, too. She slapped him, and Alec felt the sting on his left cheek, his head twisting sideways, his ear ringing. "I hate you!" she said, her voice bitter.

"Max, get a grip!" he whispered vehemently. He felt his own bitterness and anger well up inside. _I'm not Ben! _he wanted to shout. He wanted to shake Max and make her see him. But she was already like a rag doll against him. She was still so weak, but she had fought him anyway, and now she was drained. He pulled her up against him, supporting her weight.

He felt all of his bitterness drain away. How could he be mad at her? She didn't know what she was doing. He just looked at her face, still streaked with tears; he stared into those dark brown eyes. He didn't know his heart could break any more, but it did.

To look into her eyes…the eyes of the woman he loved, only to find that to her, he never existed. To have everything he'd ever wanted in his arms, only to find that he was nothing to her. No, worse. That he was _someone_ _else_.

And like salt on an already gaping wound, those brown eyes looked at him with such agonizing love and she whispered, "_Ben_, why are you doing this?"

He felt shattered.

"I'm not Ben," he murmured angrily. But he saw that she never heard him. Her head had lolled unconsciously against him, her eyes shut as she fell into a deep sleep. He sighed deeply, and ran a hand through her hair, supporting her head. He laid a kiss on her temple, "Max, I'm not Ben," he whispered again. He hoped that even if she never heard him, her heart would understand.

Alec laid Max gently on her bed. In sleep, she looked peaceful. But he knew it was a deceptive peace, just like the most placid of waters have the strongest of undercurrents. He had a feeling that Max was being pulled under by something far stronger than she was. Sometimes she broke through the surface, but only to be sucked back in.

He wanted to save her, so he had dived in and tried to rescue her. But so far, they were both being pulled under. They were both very close to drowning. He let his hand stroke her brow and she whimpered lightly, responding to his touch. "I love you, Max," he sighed softly to the sleeping form. He knew that even if he drowned, he was going to dive in again to try and find her. He climbed onto her bed, settled himself against her, and fell into a tired sleep.

Alec woke up to Max thrashing in bed, fighting a phantom attacker. He quickly rolled off the bed and tried to pin Max down before she hurt herself. She was getting stronger, but he was still dominant.

"Max," he said, his tone hushed and comforting. "It's just a dream, Max,"

"Ben, I _can't_…" came a strangled whisper from Max. Her eyes were still closed, but tears were streaming from them.

There was that name again. It still stabbed at him, but this time, Alec understood what she was reliving in her nightmares. He could feel tears well up in his eyes, too. Alec had cried before, though the occasions came few and far between. This time, as the tears spilled over his cheeks, he wasn't sure whether he was crying for himself, Max, or his dead twin. Somehow, the emotions that roiled up had converged to make it even too much for a supersoldier to bear.

Suddenly, a look of utter peace fell over Max's face for a second. Alec was transfixed. She had stopped crying, her breathing had calmed, and her face was serene. "Tell me about the Good Place…"

But just like that, the serenity was shattered when her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly. She stared at her shaking hands, alternately clenching them into fists and opening the palms wide. "No!" she sobbed. This time, the tears were not silent, but gut-wrenching. Her whole body shook as she buried her head in her hands. Tears trickled in between her fingers as if the tears could wash away the proverbial blood on her hands.

Alec stood there for what seemed like hours, just watching Max cry. He didn't touch her, afraid that she would break. "Max, I'm sorry,"

"No…_I'm_ sorry." She whispered. "I never said I was sorry…I never told you how sorry I was…" her words were muffled by her sobs, and Alec swallowed painfully. "I was so angry I didn't want to tell you I was sorry…Ben, why? Why?" she asked in anguish.

Alec closed his eyes briefly and rocked on his heels. He really had no answers.

* * *

_This is for you, Maxie, so you finally understand what I'm doing._ Ben's voice rang through her head. She saw the memory as if she were reliving it. He had his foot over a priest's chest, effectively holding his victim down.

Suddenly, the scene faded and she found herself facing Ben, fighting him.

They had circled each other warily. _I don't want to fight you, Ben…_she had thought at that moment. But it had to be done. Ben had to be stopped.

They'd both landed several punches and kicks on each other. But Max had known—she had _felt_ it—that Ben wasn't trying very hard. He had wanted to lose to her. Ben had kicked her against a tree, and stupidly, or perhaps intentionally, tried the same move again. She'd caught his leg and with a sickening crack, broke it.

As he fell to the ground, as he struggled to get up, Max had felt physically sick. This was the boy she had loved all those years. This was the boy whose memory had always made her smile. Now, here he was: vulnerable and broken. And she had done it. Now, his memory would only ever haunt her.

She knelt over him and cradled his head. She remembered the sounds of helicopters closing in, the sounds of distant footsteps rapidly approaching through the forest. Manticore was coming.

And suddenly, Ben had transformed into that sweet boy again. His eyes had lost that glazed look, and they stared back at her with aching tenderness, as if memorizing her face. They had both tried to get up, but failed.

_Don't leave me here. Don't let them take me._

_Ben, I can't carry you. We'll both get caught._ Never had Max regretted any decision more than at this moment. Max started to cry now, she could feel the hot tears coursing down her cheek, but still she couldn't wake up, as if this particular memory had a very strong hold on her, making sure she remembered everything.

_I know._ His reply was quiet, his tone forgiving. How could he have let her be so selfish at that moment? She would never know. Instead, those green eyes had begged her silently for redemption.

"Ben, I can't," she whispered, not knowing that she had said the words out loud, not realizing that she had a devastated witness standing by her bed. She only knew that in that moment, she had never hated anyone more. How _dare_ he ask her to do this? She couldn't save him like this…this wasn't redemption. This was…cowardice. They were both being cowards!

_Please…_he had begged her…and she had been driven by fear, self-preservation and selfishness, so she had relented.

_Tell me about the Good Place._

Ben had smiled beautifully at her. _Where no one ever gets punished._

_And no one gets yelled at,_

_And nobody disappears. And when you wake up in the morning you can stay in bed as long as—_she clenched her hand…and then there had been nothing, but the sound of her hand snapping his neck.

Instantly she woke up, as if the cracking sound had woken her. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. She stared at her hands, still seeing Ben, his head falling lifelessly back. She looked at her hands…at what they had done…at what they were capable of doing. "No!"

And then the sobs came. She cried just like she did in those woods. But this time, she cried because she didn't know if there _was_ a Good Place. She desperately wanted to believe that there was a Good Place and that Ben had finally been happy.

She wanted so hard to believe that he was saved.

There had to be a Good Place. There _had_ to be! Because the alternative meant that Ben was just _gone_. The alternative meant that in a single second, Ben had ceased to exist.

"Max, I'm sorry," said a voice close to her. It was a warm and comforting voice, but it only brought more tears.

"No…_I'm_ sorry." She whispered. "I never said I was sorry…I never told you how sorry I was…" her head was in her hands, trying to stifle her sobs. "I was so angry I didn't want to tell you I was sorry…Ben, why? _Why_?" she asked in anguish.

Then she lifted her face to look at the man beside her, offering her comfort if she was willing to accept it. She saw his face and felt recognition dawn inside of her. He was standing stiffly, his face carefully blank. His dark blond hair was slightly ruffled, his clothes were quite rumpled as if he had slept in them. His golden-green eyes were shadowed, and his lips were turned down slightly at the sides in a small frown.

Looking at that face, something inside of her quieted down. Her tears dried up, and her heartache eased a little. She took a deep breath as cobwebs started to clear in her mind.

Somehow, she reached out to him, her hand seeking his. For a moment, his shoulders tensed, but he took her proffered hand in his, holding it lightly.

As her mind cleared, a part of her told her that this man was someone very dear to her. And that he usually held himself with languid grace, that his face was usually very expressive. He liked his hair to be perfect, and his clothes to be clean. She also knew that those eyes were supposed to sparkle with amusement or fire up in anger—not look at her with a defeated expression. And she definitely knew those lips were supposed to be twisted in an amused smirk.

"I know you," she whispered, her lips twitching into a tentative smile. She saw him raise an eyebrow, and she correctly—she didn't know how—interpreted that as a good sign. "I know what your smile looks like," she continued hesitantly, "And how you look at me with those eyes when you're angry at me."

"Max," he started to say.

She tilted her head slightly and raised a hand to stop him from saying anything else. "You're special to me. I can feel it."

He smiled at her—the way she somehow knew he would—and she felt warmer inside. Warmer than she had felt in so long. He was chasing away the shadows inside of her.

"Yeah? What makes you say that?" he asked, his tone deceptively casual. But Max heard a note of uncertainty in his voice.

She smiled wryly, not yet understanding why she felt this way. "I don't know. I just...know you. And I have this funny urge to hit you upside the head."

He chuckled.

It was the sound, the rich low timbre of that laugh, that finally broke through the last of the cobwebs of her memory. "Alec?"

* * *

**AN2: To be continued...  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**: Unless my name is James Cameron or Charles Eglee, I don't own Dark Angel. And well, it's not. Therefore, I don't own it. Darn.

**A/N****: Written quite late at night/early in the morning. Bear with me. Thanks for all the reviews. It's helped push me to write and finish this chapter tonight.

* * *

**

Alec looked helplessly at a sobbing Max. In all the years that he had known her, she had always remained so strong and in control. There were moments when she cried, but she never, ever broke down as completely as she was now. He wished now more than ever that she would remember him so that he could at least claim his right as her confidant and friend. But he knew she was completely lost to him at the moment. He swallowed painfully at the possibility that she may yet be completely lost to him forever.

That he would forever remain Ben in her eyes.

He didn't think he could live with that.

Max lifted her tear-streaked face to his. She looked so distraught. Like someone who had just lost her faith in something she had so desperately believed in. He wanted to reach out and engulf her in a hug—if only for comfort and nothing else. He was about to make a move to touch her, when her eyes begin to clear, her tears drying up.

"I know you," she whispered. He saw her full lips, slightly chapped and dry, form an uncertain smile.

He didn't know how to react to that. How could he, when she had claimed to know him all along? He cocked his eyebrow at her, willing her to continue with her train of thought.

"I know what your smile looks like," she continued hesitantly, "And how you look at me with those eyes when you're angry at me."

Alec couldn't breathe for a second, his heart was aching that much. He was torn between elation and agony. Who was she seeing? Alec or Ben? "Max," he said, his voice cautious.

But she raised her hand at him, in that way that she always did when she wanted him to shut-up. He couldn't help but smile at that. She would always be bossy. It was just who she was, and at this very moment, when he was afraid he had lost her, it was a relief to find something that he recognized about this woman that he loved.

"You're special to me. I can feel it." She said this, her eyes peering intently at him. They were studying him, as if she were trying to see how he fit into the jigsaw puzzle of her broken memories.

Alec smiled wider at her. He couldn't help it. There was still sadness lingering in his heart, but he accepted that. He was just glad to see a semblance of the old Max in her gaze and actions. "Yeah? What makes you say that?" he asked in a light drawl, trying hard to conceal his trepidation over what her answer may be.

It seemed Max noticed his unease because she smiled wryly at him and said, "I don't know. I just…know you. And because I have this funny urge to hit you upside the head and call you names."

Alec couldn't help but toss a look heavenward and chuckle softly. It was both a release of his anxiety and a real appreciation for the small smile that had touched her lips. It was comfort and he took it, even in small doses.

Suddenly, her face lit up in recognition. "Alec?"

His heart skipped a beat. _What did she say?_ He dropped his gaze back to her, searching his eyes. "Max, what did you say?" he asked softly, his eyes scanning her face and eyes.

"Alec." she whispered again. Her voice was stronger and more certain; her eyes were clear as they stared straight at him.

Relief crashed into him. He tried to smile but the expression kept breaking. He laughed instead. He was just happy. It was that simple. "Yeah, Max. It's me."

"What's the matter with you?" she asked, her face twisting into that little frown that he was always at the receiving end of. It was one of her concerned-annoyed frowns. He had missed it so much. To see her lying lifelessly for months, then to witness her breakdown over Ben…it was wonderful to just see that endearing little frown again.

"It's just that it's you, Max. It's _you_. And it's _me_," he said, still smiling inanely at her. He couldn't help the grin. He was still standing by her bedside, but he had taken a step closer, and his hip was leaning on her bed.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Are you all right, Alec? Did you hit your head or something?"

"Yeah. Or something." He replied. "I'm just glad that you're okay now, Max."

At that statement, a dark shadow seemed to pass over her features. "Alec, how long have you been here?" she asked, her voice small and strained. She self-consciously raised her hand to wipe away the tears from her face.

He suddenly noticed that she had gotten very pale. All throughout their banter, he realized her voice had been tired. He had ignored it, simply relieved that she had finally recognized him and that she was finally acting like herself again.

"A while, Max." he replied cautiously, understanding her concern. "And yeah, I saw you crying." He wasn't going to tell her about being Ben. She didn't seem to know.

"It's just that, I was…remembering…"

Alec saw her struggled with her explanation. He laid a hand on her arm and shook his head gently. "You don't have to explain. You're all right now."

But suddenly, she slumped back down heavily onto her pillows. "I don't know if I'll ever be all right again," she whispered. Her eyes, that only moments ago had shone with clarity and recognition, immediately clouded over again. Dulled and almost lifeless.

He leaned over her, his heart racing in panic. He was losing her again! "Max," he whispered urgently, leaning over her. She raised tired eyes at him and smiled sadly. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"Maxie, it's gonna be okay," he promised. Not caring what she thought of it, he grabbed her hand and held it.

* * *

Max looked at the man, no _Alec_, standing by her bedside. He had gone completely still, even his breathing had stopped.

"Max, what did you say?" he asked. She could hear a trace of disbelief in his voice.

"Alec." she said clearly. She stared at his golden-green eyes, wondering how she could ever have forgotten him.

He was wearing a strange expression on his face. His smile kept breaking. There was a look of wonder in his eyes as he tried to figure out his emotions. He was like a guy who had been looking desperately for someone for so long, only to stumble into that person accidentally one day.

Then he laughed. "Yeah, Max. It's me."

Max thought it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard. It was just happy. It was crazy and unpredictable. But when had Alec ever been predictable?

She frowned slightly at him. Somehow, even with her shattered memories, she knew the answer instinctively. Alec was never boring. Unpredictable, but never boring. She also knew that every time he was being unpredictable, she would frown this way at him. An instinctive reaction.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked automatically.

"It's just that it's you, Max. It's _you_. And it's _me_." he replied, as he leaned his hip on her bed, still grinning widely at her. He was far more relaxed now. It lightened her heart to see him like that. She saw the smirk on his face. It was familiar and reminded her of baseballs and anvils, of bikes and motorcycles, of beer and loud music, of taverns and…_gills_?

At the thought she looked suspiciously at him. Her instincts knew him. Her heart said he was important to her. But _who_ was he to her? "Are you all right, Alec?" she asked. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"Yeah. Or something." He replied. "I'm just glad that you're okay now, Max."

_Okay now…_

And suddenly, all the warmth that had sustained her seeped away. His words brought a sudden chill as a memory flashed across her mind. A man with a beautiful face and hazel-green eyes. _Ben._ She glanced up at Alec.

"Alec, how long have you been here?" she asked, at the same time realizing there were still tears on her face. She wiped them away with shaking fingers. Had he seen her cry over his twin? Had he known how she had felt about Ben?

"A while, Max." he replied. "And yeah, I saw you crying."

_Because I killed Ben. _She looked at him, uncertain. Darkness was filling her heart again. "It's just that…I was remembering…" she couldn't find the words to express her memory.

Of what it was like to feel Ben's bones snap under the pressure of her hand. Of how that snap had reverberated through her and had broken her heart as well. She saw Ben's terrified, pleading eyes staring up at her.

_Don't leave me here. Don't let them take me._

_Snap!_

The light had died in those eyes. The darkness had taken him. She had let him down.

The memory crept up on her, breathing became difficult as that familiar darkness of fear closed in on her. A warm hand enclosed her wrist, and it held the darkness at bay. She looked up at Alec, his face so like Ben's. But his eyes were different. "You don't have to explain. You're all right now."

_Will I? Will I ever get be free of the darkness inside of me?_

"I don't know if I'll ever be all right again," she whispered. She was exhausted, she realized, her body was cold and heavy. She fell back against her pillows. Alec leaned over her, his eyes worried.

"Max," he whispered urgently. "Maxie, it's gonna be okay," he promised. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. His hand was warm and but it wasn't enough.

She squeezed his hand gently. "I don't know, Alec," she said. Then she turned her head to face away from him. She stared dully at the far wall of her hospital room. "I don't remember so many things," she admitted.

"Max, you'll get there. It's all right."

"No. Because…" her voice broke, caught in a sob. "Because, the worst part is, _I_ _don't want to remember anymore_."

Alec grabbed a hold of her face with both hands. He was holding her very gently, forcing her to look him in the eyes. There was a stricken look in the green depths of his eyes. "Max, you don't mean that!" he cried.

But she did. "I don't want to remember who I am anymore, Alec. Everything I remember about me…" she paused, unable to explain to him. She shook her head and the tears fell. "What kind of person _am_ I?"

_Don't you see, 452? You're poison._

_Fight them, Maxie. Promise me you'll fight them._

_X5-599 I've got a heart for you._

_Bang!_

_Don't leave me. Don't let them take me._

_Snap!_

_Max, I don't mind if no one else ever saw me. I just wanted to be seen by you._

_Brain?_

_You're poison. You destroy everyone that you love._

_You'll have nothing left._

The memories pressed in and crowded into her mind. They suffocated her. They tightened like a vice around her heart. And she knew. She _knew_ without a doubt.

Ben was gone. Zack had given his heart for her. Brain had died for her. She would never see Tinga again. She had sent Jace away.

Logan had died in the war.

O.C. had finally left her side.

Sketchy had been caught in the crossfire.

Bullet. Bugler. Mack. Jace. Zahn. David. Em. Fixit…hundreds of others.

Gone.

Because of her.

_You'll have nothing left._

_Fight them, Maxie. Promise me you'll fight them._

"I can't anymore…I'm just so tired…"

"Maxie, it's gonna be okay," he promised. Not caring what she thought of it, he grabbed her hand and held it. He felt her squeeze his hand gently. Alec could feel her weariness. He tried to will some of his own strength into her, even though he knew it was futile.

"I don't know, Alec," she said. Then she turned her head to face away from him, hiding away from him. "I don't remember so many things," she admitted, her voice hesitant.

"Max, you'll get there. It's all right." Alec tried to reassure her. She still wouldn't look at him. She was already trying to pull away from him.

"No. Because…" her voice broke, caught in a sob. "Because, the worst part is, _I_ _don't want to remember anymore_."

Alec stared at her incredulously, stunned at her admission. He shook his head and cupping her face in his warm hands he forced her to look him in the eyes. "Max, you don't mean that!"

Her eyes, brimming with tears, stared helplessly back at him. "I don't want to remember who I am anymore, Alec. Everything I remember about me…" she paused, struggling with her words. Finally, she just shook her head and let the tears fell. "What kind of person _am_ I?"

Her tears were hot, falling over his thumbs as they caressed her cheeks. Alec just shook his head, unable and unwilling to understand why she was being so stubborn. He stared in horror at the look in her eyes. Her face froze into a mask of hopelessness. Of desolation. And of utter darkness.

"I _can't_ anymore…I'm just so tired…" she murmured as if in a trance.

Alec shook her slightly, as if waking her from a nightmare. Her eyes focused on his again, even bleaker than before. She pulled his hands away from her face. She stared at him, her dark brown eyes tiredly begging him to understand.

"I'm just so tired, Alec." she whispered brokenly. "Tired of running, and _fighting_. Tired of trying _so_ _hard_…"

Alec clutched her hands. They were so cold. Her voice was getting smaller, too.

"…tired of _losing_. I'm just so _tired_…I'm _so_ _sorry_." she finished in the barest of whispers. Before her eyes fell close.

Suddenly, all the monitors beeped as she flatlined. Alec glanced frantically at the machine then back down at Max. Her head had turned to the side, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. Her tears were still warm on her face.

"_NOOOO_!" he screamed. "MAX! No! You come back to me, _NOW_! Dammit! Max! You can't _do_ this to me!"

The beep continued. Sharp. Incessant.

He grabbed the front of her hospital gown as he leaned closer to her. "No, Max! _Please_…" he begged. "Please…wake up."

Beeeep.

"Don't leave me," he sobbed. "Max, don't leave me…"

Beeeep.

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel doesn't belong to me. I'm really just a bum who fell in love with Alec one day and decided to make him a hero.**

**A/N: Here's the next installment of this crazy not-so-stand-alone fic. I still don't know where I'm headed, so…I dunno, inspire me?**

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Strong arms were pulling him away from her. He struggled to fight to stay close to her. But there were insistent hands, fingers pressing against pressure points to force him to let go. Their efforts only made him clutched her harder.

Beeeep.

The sound of the heart monitor was nothing more than a background noise now. It was completely dulled by the roar of pain rushing through him. Max had died. Max was dead. They were taking her away from him now. "No! Let me go!"

"Alec! We need to get to her right now!"

Beeeep.

The sharp noise was incessant. He wanted to drown it out completely. He opened his mouth, but nothing but an anguished wail came out. Suddenly, Alec felt a prick on his shoulder. He felt something cold run through his arm followed by a wave of dizziness.

His vision blurred and his arms involuntarily dropped Max. He staggered backwards, belatedly realizing that the doctors were trying to revive her. Finally, he let himself be pushed to the side of the room, as the tranquilizer worked through him. At least, the beeping sound was gone.

He refused to be downed by the chemical in his body. He forced himself to relax and let it run through him. With bleary eyes and a hazy mind, he watched helplessly as they pulled out the defibrillator.

"Clear!" called Doctor Evans as he placed the two paddles over Max's chest. The shock ran through her body. It spasmed, but fell lifelessly back onto the bed.

"Charge! Clear!"

Still nothing.

Alec closed his eyes, unable to look at the scene before him. He didn't even realize that tears had started to fall until it trickled down his neck. "Max…" he whispered achingly.

Suddenly, the heart monitor beeped. All eyes fell on it. Another beep. Another heartbeat.

Alec felt his own heart thundering in his chest. She was _alive_! He watched as the doctors checked her vital statistics.

Suddenly, Alec's head slumped heavily against the wall that he had been leaning against. His knees gave way as he finally let the tranquilizer do its job. He fell bonelessly onto the floor, but he was still conscious. The dose hadn't been enough to completely knock him out.

"She's stable, Alec." said Dr. Evans, crouching down to face him. He placed a warm, reassuring hand on the Transgenic's shoulder. "She's not in a coma. Just unconscious. She'll wake up soon. Tell me, son, what happened?"

Alec shook his head. "She just said she was tired. She just closed her eyes."

Dr. Evans nodded. "I see."

Alec glanced sharply over at the doctor. There had been something in his tone of voice that alarmed him. "What is it, Doc? What aren't you telling me?" He was already starting to come out of the tranq-induced haze. The good doctor was learning quickly about transgenics, it seemed. Especially just the required dosage to tranq one for a few minutes.

"Hmm?" Dr. Evans glanced up from looking over Max's charts.

"What's happening to Max?" demanded Alec.

"Trauma," sighed the doctor. His blue eyes bore directly into Alec's green ones. His eyes were kind, if somewhat sad. "Sometimes, trauma patients don't wake up even though their bodies are completely healed and they should."

Alec's gaze fell onto Max. Her chest was rising steadily with each breath. She looked sad, even in her sleep. He walked over to her and pushed her hair back from her face. "So, how do I wake her up?"

"Nobody knows." Replied the doctor. "This isn't science anymore, Alec. This is beyond my hands. Some people in psych think it boils down to a person's will to live."

Alec suddenly felt bone-tired. Drained. Max had lost her will to live. She hadn't died, but she had still found a way to leave him behind. "Thanks, Doc," he sighed wearily.

Dr. Evans shook his head sadly at the young transgenic. He watched as Alec struggled to get up, pushing himself against the wall. It was still amazing how fast transgenics could recover. He motioned for a couple of the nurses to help the young man.

Alec glared at them, but wisely allowed them to pull a chair close to Max and deposit him onto it. He sat on the chair and rested his head on her bed.

Dr. Evans eyed the almost heart-breaking scene. They were both so young, he realized with a start. It was a startling insight because they acted like they had lived five lifetimes. He shook his head. Maybe they had. He reached over and gave Alec's shoulder a quick comforting squeeze.

Despite the fact that Max's body had healed at a phenomenal rate, Dr. Evans realized that at the heart of it all, even transgenics needed a reason to live. They were only human, after all. "Give her a reason, Alec," he whispered. "Give her a reason to live."

Alec raised his head and looked at the doctor who was smiling kindly at him. He nodded and the doctor left Max's room, closing the door softly behind him. Alec turned his attention back to Max. He took her limp hand in his and stroked it.

"Max…" he whispered. He struggled with what to say to her. He let his eyes wander over her pale face. A muscle worked spasmodically in Alec's throat as he tried to get the words from his heart out into the open. He opened his mouth again to say something, but no words came out.

He shut his eyes as tears of futility rolled down his face. He didn't know if his love was reason enough for her to live. He didn't know if she'd even want it. He opened his eyes again and realized that her breathing had become shallower, almost imperceptible.

"_Don't_, Max!" he whispered achingly, clutching her hand. "Don't die!" He found the pulse on her wrist and kept his fingers on it, knowing that the thready but steady rhythm was the only anchor he had to his sanity. And suddenly, it was like he couldn't stop talking.

"Don't leave me, Max," he begged. "Just don't leave! God, there are a thousand things I want to tell you. _I love you_. You know that, right? No, I didn't think so. But how can I tell you that if you don't wake up for me? So you have to wake up. You just have to."

"Are you listening to me, Max?" he cajoled. "Do you know why I love you? Do you know why I need you to stay with me? You have to understand why you can't leave me..." he continued, somehow convinced that if he could make her listen and understand him, she would stay.

"Listen, I wouldn't have survived this long without you, Max. _You_ gave me a reason to be. Don't think for a second that I wouldn't have been nothing but a half-assed hero without you. My life wouldn't have had a purpose. I might have just been like…" he choked on the words. "…like Ben."

There was no response from her. And Alec laid his head against her hand, letting his tears fall onto her palm. He was tired and heartbroken, but he continued. "Maxie, you wouldn't let me be like Ben." he whispered. "There were so many times when I could have gone the other way, but you held on to me. No, actually, _you_ let _me_ hold on to you. And I just _can't_ let you go right now!"

Suddenly he looked up at her, his eyes blazing with impotent fury. "Max!" he all but shouted at her. "Wake up, dammit!"

He was switching tactics, driven by anger and grief. "If you die, you know what I'll do? Know what'll happen to me? I'm gonna go and live up to being the screw-up that I was. I'm gonna get myself shot in the ass. How about that? I'm gonna go and drink myself to death. I'm gonna go and sleep with every _blonde_ girl I can find. And I'm gonna…I'm gonna…" he tapered off, running out of steam. Finally, he just sighed, "Please, just wake up."

She was still unresponsive.

An hour of cajoling, begging, pleading for her to wake up and stay with him passed. His voice was rough and raw with use and emotion. For once in his life, Alec was actually tired of talking.

He sat in the hospital room, clutching Max's hand in his. He didn't know what else to do or to say. He laid his head down on her bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

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Alec woke up to a stiff neck and aching shoulders. He groaned as he lifted his head off the bed. His eyes wandered over to Max's face. She looked so young and tired. The steady rise and fall of her chest told Alec that she was still hanging in there.

"Alec?" the rough voice startled him. He was exhausted and burned out that he had missed the nearly seven-foot dog-man standing in the doorway.

He smiled tiredly at his friend. "Hey, Joshua," he greeted.

Joshua shuffled painfully into Max's room. The war had severely injured Joshua's left leg that he limped painfully. "Is…is Little Fella gonna be okay?"

Alec looked back towards Max and shrugged. "She's alive," he said simply.

"But not okay." Confirmed Joshua. He placed a large hand on Alec's shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Alec nodded in acknowledgement. "She woke up two days ago."

Joshua was instantly alert. His blue eyes fell on Max's pale, lifeless face. She didn't look any different from the last time he had been here. "She wake up for Big Fella right now?" he asked, hopefully.

Alec shook his head. "Doc says she's supposed to be conscious by now, but she's not coming around." He shrugged dejectedly, not really understanding the implications of Max's condition.

"Max afraid." Said Joshua simply. Alec always wondered where Joshua took his insights from. It was as if the large transhuman saw everything differently. More colorful in some ways, darker in others.

Alec just nodded sadly. "She thought I was Ben. She couldn't remember everything. But she remembered everyone who had died." He said, his voice no more than a sad whisper. "She barely remembered _me_," he choked out. Suddenly, he was pulled roughly against the large transhuman's chest.

Alec stiffened briefly, unused to such a show of tenderness. But in the next instant he found himself returning the hug fully. He wrapped one fisted hand around his friend, the other clenched tightly over Joshua's chest as if ready to pound out his grief. He lifted it and dropped it slowly against his friend. His knuckles were white from the sheer force of clenching, his nails digging into his palms. He leaned his forehead on his friend's shoulder, unable to look Joshua in the eye as his body shook with the force of keeping his emotions inside. "I just don't know what else to do, Josh," he whispered through clenched teeth.

Joshua held his shaking friend tightly. It was terrifying to see Alec fight so hard to keep everything inside. Finally, Alec pushed away from him and looked up. He tried to smile, but the expression broke halfway through, his lips twisting into a grimace, instead. "Thanks, Buddy, I didn't think I needed that, but…"

"It's okay, Alec," assured Joshua. "It's okay to feel."

This time Alec really smiled. His expression loosened, the lips lifting up a bit, even if the smile didn't touch his eyes, it was something. "Yeah, well, I must've missed that memo."

Joshua patted his friend heavily on the back, recognizing the effort it took for Alec to maintain his easy-going persona. "Joshua stay with Max. Alec should go rest."

"No, Josh, I'll stay, too." He said. He didn't want to miss a thing in case Max woke up…or slipped away.

Joshua shook his head of shaggy hair. He sniffed the air and said decisively, "Alec should clean-up."

Alec chuckled ruefully. "I guess I could use a shower." He ran a hand over his face tiredly. He looked around the sparse hospital room. He had practically lived in this room for the last two months, coming and going. He felt a heavy weight of depression and hopelessness suddenly fall on his shoulders. Two months was a long time, and he didn't know how long he could keep on doing this.

He turned to lean over Max and place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Wake up for me, Maxie," he whispered. "Please." He added, as an afterthought, in case Max really could hear him. The thought made him smile—one that almost resembled his smart-alecky grin. "You heard it, Max. I said 'please'."

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Alec was back again by nightfall. In the hospital room with Max, time had felt like it didn't exist. Everything was at a standstill and all that mattered was him and Max. But as soon as he stepped out of the hospital, he had felt a sudden sense of time passing.

Things had to be taken cared of. Life still went on.

Alec stepped into Max's room and smiled sadly. Joshua was an almost comical sight, his body folded into a small chair. Joshua twitched as Alec came closer, his enhanced senses immediately picking up the new presence. His blue eyes cracked open and he smiled at Alec. "Alec," he greeted in his deep voice.

"Any change, Josh?" he asked, half-hopeful and half-afraid.

Joshua stretched his long body as he stood up. He shook his shaggy head. "No, Alec. Little Fella still sleeping deeply."

Alec sighed and nodded once. He finally let his eyes fall onto Max's still figure. He didn't know how long he stood there, just looking at her. She didn't even look like Max anymore. She was much too thin, her cheeks gaunt and hollowed, the arm lying on her side nothing more than a thin rail. Her hair was limp and tangled. Her skin that had once glowed bronze was now dulled by a grayish pallor. Her full lips were pale and cracked. Her brown eyes that used to shoot fire at him were now sunken and ringed with shadows.

He felt a shroud of darkness fall over him at the sight. He was afraid. Simple as that.

He was afraid that this…_stranger_…lying in the bed was all that was left of Max. He was afraid that no matter how hard he tried to coax her back, that there was no one there to bring back. Max was gone…

"Alec, talk to her," said Joshua. Alec looked up, ripped from his dark reverie. "I've tried that, Josh." He replied bitterly. "She never listened to me before, she won't listen to me now."

Joshua cocked his head at him. "Alec just giving up then?" he asked pointedly. "Max woke up before, she can wake up again."

Alec couldn't look Joshua in the eye. How could he explain to his friend that when she woke up, he hadn't been able to save her? That he had let her slip right through his fingers? That he hadn't been enough of a reason to live for?

How could he explain to Joshua that he had cried and begged for her to come back, but that still wasn't enough? How?

"She's X5. She's strong. She's _Max_." insisted Joshua, his voice rough but gentle.

_Was that really still Max? _He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream at Joshua that she was gone. Max was gone, and that person in the bed was just a body. Alec clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw hurt. It took that much effort to keep the bitterness from pouring out of him like poison.

"Alec, she listens to you."

Alec gave Joshua an angry disbelieving look. "Now, don't go lying to me, Josh." He drawled. "It just ain't pretty."

Joshua frowned, a little bit stung by Alec's casual sarcasm. He had seen the sudden change in Alec since he had walked into the room. He could feel the coldness now emanating from him.

He moved over to stand right in front of his friend and forced the younger man to look up to him. "Max always listened to Alec. Max needed Alec always. Just like Alec needs Max now. She…she…" he stammered a bit, his emotions making it difficult to string words together. "_She needs you_ _most_. After Siege. Before the War. In the War. She needed you."

Alec swallowed hard, past the lump in his throat. "I failed her."

Joshua grabbed a hold of Alec's shoulders and shook him. "NO!" he practically roared.

Alec responded to that by pushing Joshua away forcefully. He glared at his friend, not caring that Joshua completely outclassed him when it came to sheer strength. "Look at her, Josh. Look at her!" he said, his voice rising. "Tell me that's not failing her! Huh? Tell me that's not her giving up on us! Tell me!"

Joshua growled, but didn't retaliate against the angry shove. Joshua looked at Max, and suddenly, all the tension just left him. "Remind her, Alec," he said gruffly. "Remind her that she has…family."

With that, Joshua pushed past his friend going towards the door, limping, shoulders sagging. He knew that his X5 friends needed to be alone. Max would only listen to Alec now, because Alec was her best reason to live. But they both had to believe that, and right now, it seemed like both of his friends had lost hope.

"Max will die, Alec," he said simply, not even looking over his shoulder. "If you don't remind her why she fought so hard in the war to begin with."

Alec watched as the beam of light from the hall became smaller until the door clicked shut and all that was left was a faint outline. He felt just like that—where hope was nothing more than a faint outline of what used to be something so bright. How could he remind her when he no longer remembered himself?

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**A/N2**: **So obviously, I decided not to let Max die just yet. Please read and review. I really need a lot of pushing to get this one going. It's not even written in the same vein as the other chapters…bring me back my inspiration…I'm blaming hunger pangs for the different style of this chapter…I have to lose weight for a tournament and I'm not happy…tsk, tsk, tsk. I hope you guys didn't suffer too much. **


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel isn't mine, but Alec keeps me up at night.**

**A/N: Thanks to all readers, reviewers (especially you guys!) for all of your continued support and patience with this story. Enjoy!**

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**CHAPTER 5:**

"I was sixteen when I first tasted ice cream." He said abruptly. He smiled at the memory, suddenly coming to the fore of his mind, vivid and colorful. "It was strawberry, and I remember thinking that it was so good. And that it was too bad it never lasted long."

His eidetic memory supplied a vision of himself, struggling to finish his rapidly melting ice cream and savor each taste along the way. It was like trying to fight the passing of time. It was going to melt either way, he had to either eat it or waste the stupid thing. But he would be damned if he wasn't gonna enjoy ever bit of the pink treat. "In the end, I almost had to shove the entire cone down my mouth because 341 told me that the subject I had under surveillance was coming." He chuckled. "What's your favorite ice cream flavor, Maxie? Makes me wonder…"

He lapsed into silence for a brief moment, shaking his head and smiling ruefully and in wonder at how he could laugh at a memory that involved Manticore and his missions. But the thing was, it was in the past. He had moved on. Life, incredibly, had become a million times more complicated since Manticore had burned to the ground.

As a soldier, his world had been small. It mostly consisted of himself. Of keeping himself alive. Sometimes, it involved a Unit. At most, it involved the entire organization. But compared with the rest of the world, it had been a drop of water in the ocean.

Because as soon as he had been forcibly freed from Manticore—well, the whole world suddenly came into view. And he found himself caring more about things that were not himself. Not even tied directly to him. Hell, he had cared about things that couldn't even be traced back to him. Life had changed.

And he had fought in a war not just to save himself. Not just for duty. But because he had cared about the world. Or at least, several aspects about the world. People. Places. Things. Max.

They had won the war…and now all he wanted to do was look forward to a future where he could chuckle at the smallest rays of light that had speckled his dark childhood memories. Like eating ice cream for the first time on an away mission.

Correction: He _wanted_ to look forward to the future…but he was still painfully blinded by the present.

He gingerly reached over and took Max's hand in his, and glanced briefly at her pale face. He still couldn't bear to look at her lifeless face for too long, but the steady beats of the heart monitor and the deep sound of her breathing calmed him.

"Green." He said conversationally, as this new thought popped into his head, though his throat had constricted slightly. "Green is my favorite color."

Alec threaded his fingers with Max's and squeezed gently. He wished that she would return the gentle pressure back, but her hand remained limp in his. She had small hands, but they weren't delicate. Her nails were chipped and the knuckles of her forefinger and middle finger had the tendency to protrude—no doubt because she liked to punch everything in sight.

The thought made Alec smile sadly as he continued with his rambling. "I don't know why I like green, maybe it's because it's the first thing that I really noticed about the world after Manticore burned down." he admitted softly. "I remember that there were just these bodies of people and kids and transhumans running into the woods. I remember sort of just following the flow of people. I spent that first night out of Manticore in a small motel right on the outskirts of the woods. The first thing I saw when I woke up the next day, were the trees outside my window. We didn't have windows in our barracks at Manticore. Not since you guys escaped. And I thought it was strange for a second that I was seeing green outside of the window."

"From that moment on, green became my favorite color."

He glanced briefly over at Max, but she didn't even stir. He sighed heavily and continued talking. He hadn't really stopped this one-sided conversation since dawn. It was almost noon now. He had stared at her all night, Joshua's words floating in his head: "_Max will die, Alec, if you don't remind her why she fought so hard in the war to begin with_."

Family, a life, some normalcy, acceptance, peace…these were why Max had fought so hard in the war. Those were the only things that she'd ever craved for as long as he'd known her. He had to remind her that if she came back to him…he would give her everything that she'd ever wanted.

But he didn't know where to start.

So, he had just rambled on about his life, inadvertently telling Max more about himself than he had ever let her see before.

"I had plans, y'kknow. I was gonna go to California." He continued. "Before White caught me and planted that bomb in my head, I was gonna go to California and live there. I had a mission in Silicon Valley there once, right after the Pulse," he rambled on, this time, his hands were subconsciously massaging her thin arms. "It was so busy. There were so many things happening all at once and everyone was trying to figure out what went wrong…it was the perfect place to get lost and disappear."

"And then, I ran into you. And you saved my life." He said simply. "Max, you wanna know a secret? I didn't expect you to. A part of me didn't even want you to save me." he whispered softly, leaning close to her ear. "I wanted to die and just be done with life, y'know? When I couldn't kill you…I accepted it. I accepted the idea that I was really gonna die…and for some reason, it felt…all right." He chuckled softly. "I didn't really have any reason to live."

He laid his head close to hers on her pillow, his lips almost touching her ear. "But you wouldn't accept it, Maxie. You didn't let me die. You did everything you could to save me. I loved you in that moment. Even before I knew it was love. And suddenly, I had a reason. I never stopped feeling that way about you…" he whispered against her ear. "So, Max, I'm begging you to be the stubborn pain in the ass that you are, and wake up. Because I'm not accepting the fact that you're dying…I'm not!"

There was a sudden change in her breathing. Alec's head came up, his keen eyes observing the minute changes in her. The rise and fall of her chest was no longer quite as even, the breaths were shallower and closer spaced. Tiny prickles of hair stood on end on her arm, as her body woke into awareness.

"That's right, Maxie, open your eyes. I promise I'll be right here." He urged, his heart beating rapidly by the sheer emotion that was filling him. It was apprehension and excitement all at once.

Her fingers twitched and he reached out to hold them. She clutched his hand, even in her weakened state, her grip remained strong and firm. It was a reassuring feeling, telling Alec that maybe…just maybe…she really was still holding on.

Her throat convulsed as she attempted to swallow, her lips opened and closed, as if tasting life again. Alec looked around and took an ice cube out of the bucket that he had endlessly refilled. He carefully slid that cool ice across her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open, unerringly locking with his the instant they focused. There was an angry, determined fire in her eyes.

Alec didn't understand where that anger was coming from. But he was relieved that she had at least woken up. "Maxie?"

But her words shattered him.

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"**_I was sixteen when I first tasted ice cream."_** A deep warm voice, filled with the happiness of golden memories broke through the cold and darkness that Max was floating numbly in. It brought back sensation and she wanted to whimper and cry out against it. Because, suddenly, she was beginning to feel the little throbbing aches all throughout her body.

"**_It was strawberry, and I remember thinking that it was so good. And that it was too bad it never lasted long."_** There it was again. That voice, insistently pulling at a deeper part of her, opening places she had long since shut closed.

"**_In the end, I almost had to shove the entire cone down my mouth because 341 told me that the subject I had under surveillance was coming. What's your favorite ice cream flavor, Maxie? Makes me wonder…"_** He chuckled after those words, and it was like that little laughter reverberated inside of her, reminding her of the hollow shell she had turned herself into. His laughter was deep and rich, warm and hopeful.

Suddenly, out of the darkness, came a kaleidoscope of colors and images. Like watching slideshows of someone's vacation: bright and colorful, but unfamiliar because you didn't know half the people on it.

Ice cream.

"_Max…try some of this! It's my favorite. Dad only lets us have some every now and then." _An excited little girl shoved a papery cone-like material, a pink dollop of something sticky and creamy balanced on top of it.

"_What is it?"_ Max's curious question.

"_It's called ice cream, you silly!" _

Gingerly accepting the gift, a young Max watched how Lucy, her foster sister, started to lick the ice cream dreamily. Max carefully flicked her tongue on the treat, the same way Lucy was. A smile of dawning awe crept onto the short-haired young Max. It was cold and sweet, swirling with flavor and melting in the heat of her mouth. _"Strawberries…"_

And just like that, the simple memory filled her with a sense of goodwill, like only ice cream on a hot summer day can.

"**_Green." _**The warm voice broke through the vision, and the taste of ice cream on a sun-gold afternoon blurred away. She felt a gentle pressure on her hand, one that she wanted to return, but found that she had no strength to do so. It was like willing a deadened part of her to move. It was like her arm wasn't even there!

She fought against the panic that suddenly rushed through her. Her mind was alive, but her body was still unresponsive. And just as suddenly, she no longer wanted to wake up. It was too hard… She was searching for the numbing darkness and oblivion when his voice broke through again. **_"Green is my favorite color."_**

And it evoked another memory. This one so poignant that Max could only let herself be dragged into it, like riding a riptide and watching the shore get further and further away.

Beautiful green gold eyes shining in youthful wonder, staring at a tiny picture. _"What'd he give you?"_

"_You can see her heart."_

"_She's beautiful."_

"_The Blue Lady—who is she?"_ asked a young Max, her hair nothing more than fuzz, big brown eyes staring into those golden green ones who had all the answers.

"_She's watching over us."_ He said, his voice full of conviction.

And at night, he had held a Max that had been convulsing, holding the picture of the Blue Lady next to her heart. _"Think of the Blue Lady, Maxie…think of everything that's beautiful and blue and peaceful."_

Max did, and she stopped convulsing. Then Ben, with his soft voice had whispered into her ear, _"From now on, Maxie, blue is my favorite color."_

"**_From that moment on, green became my favorite color." _**The youthful voice blended almost seamlessly with the deep baritone of the man's. She felt the memory ebb away as she came closer to the surface of consciousness.

Max felt stinging little pains in her arm as he massaged them. They were pains that told her that her muscles were coming back to life; that she was slowly waking up. But, God, it _hurt_! Her body felt like it was burning with a phantom-like pain. She knew that all her wounds were healed, all broken bones had reset themselves, and blood no longer spilled out of her. But it was as if, her body was reminding her…

She fought. She fought against consciousness, searching for the oblivion of darkness. She didn't want to hurt like that anymore. She heard clips of the man's voice, but she fought against that. Against him.

"**_I had plans, y'know. I was gonna go to California… it was the perfect place to get lost and disappear."_**

She wanted to get lost. She wanted to disappear—to no longer exist in the half-world of life and death. Max could feel herself drowning again. There was something almost comforting in the shadows of nothingness. Blocking out all the pain. All the horror. All the regrets. All the bad things that life brought along.

"_**And then, I ran into you. And you saved my life."**_

And suddenly, just like that, Max stopped sinking into the darkness. She was held still by a memory of flashing green eyes, burning with fire and purpose. The way the beautiful face above her twisted in indecision, before falling blank. A knife plunging into the soft grass, only a few inches from her face. No…_he_ had saved her that night.

"**_Max, you wanna know a secret?"_** His voice was very close, causing the air around her ear to vibrate.

She wanted to tell him her secret: she owed her life to him that night. He had been asked for a proof of purchase, her barcode, and he had chosen to turn in his instead. She had never forgiven him for that. It was her secret.

"**_I didn't expect you to. A part of me didn't even want you to save me. _** **_I wanted to die and just be done with life, y'know? When I couldn't kill you…I accepted it. I accepted the idea that I was really gonna die…and for some reason, it felt…all right."_**

She understood all too well. She had accepted death a long time ago. When she had held Ben's lifeless body in her arms and cried for him, she had also cried for her own mortality. That one day soon, she was going to die, too. Sooner or later, they were all going to die.

And now, she was just done with life.

"**_I didn't really have any reason to live." _**

A reason to live? Something…_someone_…worth all the pain of going through life for? Had she ever had a reason to live? Had she ever had a reason beyond the duty and responsibility that she had tied herself to with the transgenic cause? A reason beyond the simple act of caring about strangers and humanity? A real reason to wake up in the morning and look forward to life?

She felt his cool lips touching her ear, caressing it with each word he spoke. **_"But you wouldn't accept it, Maxie. You didn't let me die. You did everything you could to save me." _**

Was that really how he remembered things? She could still see that lab technician's little room. She saw the bleakness on his handsome face. The truth was: How could she let him die without reliving the death of Ben? _How could she?_ She couldn't. So she had chosen to save his life. Because she didn't want to see Ben's face die all over again. She had done it because of Ben. For Ben. For herself.

"_**I loved you in that moment. Even before I knew it was love. And suddenly, I had a reason. I never stopped feeling that way about you…" **_

She wanted to scream. _NO!_ She wanted to hit him. _I didn't do it for you!_ Suddenly, she found herself struggling against the darkness, following the deep tenor of his voice. Her heart was beating rapidly again, and God, it throbbed with the pain of guilt and regret. _He loved her for all the wrong reasons…_

"_**So, Max, I'm begging you to be the stubborn pain in the ass that you are, and wake up. Because I'm not accepting the fact that you're dying…I'm not!" **_

Max struggled to move. The pain coursing through her body was excruciating. It was like waking from a beautiful blissful dream to finding out she was lying on hot coals over broken glass. Her body thrummed with pain and exhaustion and it took all of her will power just to move her fingers.

Immediately she felt his large, warm hands holding her own cold ones. She shouldn't, but she clutched his hand, using it as a lifeline. **_"That's right, Maxie, open your eyes. I promise I'll be right here." _**She was relieved to hear him say that. She took comfort in knowing that at the end of the dark tunnel, there would be a familiar face.

But suddenly she felt a deep-seated anger bloom inside of her. She was angry with her weakness. Angry about how much she needed Alec at the moment. Angry because she had no right to need him this much.

She felt the coolness of water slip between her lips. Refreshing. Resuscitating. The water slipped in between her lips, easing the tightness in her throat. Giving her enough strength to say what needed to be said.

Her eyes opened slowly, blinded by the sudden entry of light after being in darkness for so long. But, like a moth to a flame, they were immediately focused on bright golden-green eyes.

He was so beautiful. Like a figment of her imaginations come to life. But he wasn't hers. Not really. And that's why anger was burning so brightly inside of her. Because it was all so wrong.

He was looking down at her hopefully, "Maxie?"

And she knew that she could only destroy that hope. "Don't…love…me, Alec." she whispered painfully. "You…_can't_."

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**A/N: I was gonna end it at this chapter. She woke up and they lived happily ever after. Yeah, that never works for me. As I was typing this (and by God, this chapter took like two and a half hours!), it just took a life of its own and went on its own tangent. Might be a few more days before I can sort through this unexpected plot twist. But I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel does not belong to me. **

**A/N: This is a short chapter to address the change in the tone and pace of the story because now, Max is awake. This is all from Max's perspective as she deals with living again. And a few other realizations along the way. **

**A/N2: I know I said that I would only be updating A Darker Angel until it was finished, but…a lot of people wanted to know what was going to happen in this story. And I wanted to know, too. So I sat down today, and wrote this chapter. Never say I don't listen to reviewers. LOL!**

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She collapsed again.

Falling helplessly onto the blue mat, she stretched her arms in front of her to break the fall and felt the jarring impact throughout her body. Pain, sharp and searing, tore through her arms and side. For a few moments, she was nothing but a heaving mess on the matted floor. Finally, she managed to push herself up to a sitting position, left hand extended onto the mat, palms down, supporting her weight. Her right hand kept a grip on her side where a bullet had torn through months before.

Physiologically speaking, she was completely patched up. But several months without using most of her voluntary muscles had made her as weak as a newborn kitten. And she was having none of that.

It had only been a week since she had awoken from her coma, but Max was ready to get back into the swing of things. She couldn't bear to sit in her empty hospital room and continue to be haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Eyes flashing, she looked up at Yoon, an X5 with jet-black hair and midnight eyes. He was her designated physical therapist. "Help me up," she demanded, reaching out her right hand to him.

Expressionless, he pulled her up.

Max was grateful that Yoon wasn't one of those cheerful types. His silent observation and quiet support were just perfect for her. She didn't need a damned cheerleader. She needed someone who would let her push herself, but know when to hold her back without ever having to raise his voice.

She knew Alec had assigned Yoon to her, understanding exactly what she needed.

Standing up straight, Max took a deep breath letting all the small aches roll past her consciousness. Her eyes flitted briefly over to the door of the small physical therapy room of the hospital.

"He's not coming."

Max shot a sharp glance over to Yoon. "What are you talking about?" she snapped.

"I don't say much, Max, but I do see a lot. You look out that door everyday. You stare out the window every time we walk past one. And each time the door to your room opens you straighten up and brighten just a little bit until you realize that it's not him." he said, his voice completely deadpan and matter-of-fact.

"I don't know what you're saying," she denied, leaning heavily on the balancing bar to her left.

"Alec's not coming back."

Max compressed her lips together. "I don't care," she whispered. Then she shot him an impatient look. "Let's work on my walking, I don't have all day."

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3:46 am.

It was like the clock was taunting her. The minutes ticked on by, and her shark DNA just wouldn't let her slip into that time machine called sleep. Instead, she had to spend all night with memories that her mind continued to recover.

Max sighed against her window, a small puff of mist fogging it up briefly. Three weeks of intense physical therapy and she was _almost _sure she could jump out this window and land thirty feet below without breaking a sweat.

She was _definitely_ sure, however, that when she got out of here, her life was not going to be the same. And it was all going to start with the end of her and Alec.

There would be no more fights, no more yelling. No more arm around her should to give her a comforting squeeze in the darkest of moments. No more "Maxie" in that infuriating way he said her name. No more cocky grins and arrogant swaggers.

No more "I love you's" in the middle of the night when he thought she wouldn't hear.

It was really the end. And when faced with the end of things, there was nowhere else left to go but back to the beginning. And with her memories almost fully restored, there was a lot of footage to play back through. There was a lot of Alec in her life. She smiled sadly at the thought.

"_Ben?"_ She remembered the first time she ever really saw Alec. And even then, she had called him by his twin's name.

"_What?"_ His brow had wrinkled a bit, his eyes raking over her curiously.

"_You look like someone I used to know." _ Someone she used to love, Max thought bitterly.

"_Well my designation's 494."_

"_His was 493. You must be twinned."_ To look so much like him. They had to be identical, sharing the same DNA. Being the same person.

"_493. Your fellow traitor. Went psycho." _He was so cavalier at the time. It was at that moment that she had started to feel that aliveness that he always incited in her. In fact, she had been furious.

"_What do you know about it?"_ Her eyes had flashed angrily, her voice strident with defensiveness.

"_I know that because of him I had to spend six months in psy-ops. They wanted to make sure it wasn't genetic." _He had shrugged it off and had carefully masked his pain. And she had never thought to ask what that had been like. To her, it was Ben who had suffered at Manticore's hands. Alec…hadn't even counted into her considerations.

Max blinked rapidly as another memory presented itself to her.

She was in a small cage in a makeshift military camp. Captured. Trapped. Running out of options. Then, glaring light had slipped into the tent as a tall, broad-shouldered frame lifted the flap. _"Alec."_

"_To the rescue. Still wanna kick my butt?" _A grin. Mischievous eyes had sparkled with amusement to find her behind bars.

"_Maybe later."_ She'd conceded, not able to help herself but banter with him. Even when they were in the middle of an escape—she'd been amused. He always knew how to make her smile.

He had saved her. He didn't have to turn his car around and come back for her. But he had. And he'd even helped her save the other kids. Funny how she never expected much from him, but he had always come through.

Suddenly, her heart felt heavy, and her eyelids drooped as her mind recovered another stark memory of Alec. She leaned her hot forehead onto the cool window. She was remembering the night that defined their relationship.

"_I'm sorry, there's no other way."_ She could see his anguished face over hers. The effects of the tazer were still wracking her body. She couldn't fight him. She could only whisper his name at the moment. _"Alec." **Why are you doing this?**_

"_I don't want to die." _He whispered, answering her unspoken question. His eyes, green-gold and beautiful, looked down at her. Begging her to understand. Anguished. Tortured. **_"Don't leave me here. Don't let them take me."_ **Reminiscent of the same golden green eyes looking up at her. Begging her to understand. Anguished. Tortured.

She could only lay back and accept her fate. It was all so appropriate at that moment. She had killed Ben. And now…someone identical to him was going to kill her.

She watched with resignation as the silver blade came down—slamming onto the soft earth next to her face. She heard him roll onto the ground next to her, breathing deeply, resignedly. She still couldn't take her eyes off of the dagger.

Two inches from her face.

_He_ was willing to just die. _Ben_ had been willing to just die. Back then, she had run, she had saved herself. She turned her head to see him looking defeated, the light already dying in his eyes. He looked ashamed of himself, but now also afraid, knowing death was just a few minutes away. And despite her anger and misgivings, she knew one thing: She couldn't let this one die.

The Manticore lab technician removed the tiny explosive just in time. A few seconds later, they both watched the small bomb pop and smoke.

Two inches from his face.

"_I owe you, Max. I know I screwed things—" _ His eyes were sincere. For the first time since she had met him, his eyes were sincere. Like Ben's used to be. And again, she saw how he was Ben. Except that this time, she had saved him.

But Alec wasn't Ben. He would never be Ben. It was still so wrong. She still hadn't saved Ben, no matter how much Alec looked like him. She had lost everything: the cure for the virus, the promise of a life with Logan, and the hope of redemption from herself.

She couldn't bear to see him anymore. Shaking her head, letting her anger ease the pain, she looked at him in hate. She looked at him like she had never looked at Ben.

And that was how she had looked at him for a long time: eyes colored with just a little bit of hate. Just a little bit of anger. And always with resentment. Because she had saved Alec, but not Ben.

"_Just do me a favor all right? Go away. I can't even look at you right now."_

"_I'm sorry, Max…for everything." _

Tears streamed silently down her face, falling onto the window, slipping down just like rain. Had she ever forgiven him for not being Ben? Had he known that it wasn't the virus or Logan that had spurred all the anger?

She shook her head as if to clear it. Alec had nothing to be sorry for. _She_ was sorry for everything.

"_I'm sorry I let you out of Manticore. I'm sorry I inflicted you out on the world."_ It was as if all her nightmares had come true. She had hated Alec for not being Ben…but it had been _unbearable_ when she had thought he was just like Ben. She had masked the breaking of her heart with the kind of anger only Alec could ever rouse in her.

"_You really think I could do it? You think I could murder someone in cold blood?"_

"_Yes, Alec, I think you could!"_ Because they were identical.

"_You know, no matter what you think, there's no way it could have been me. The guy was killed over a year ago. I was at Manticore." _Her relief had left her speechless. She couldn't say she was sorry, and she couldn't say that she was glad. Either way, Alec had proven once again that he was not Ben.

"Some guy with Ben's face?" she asked her reflection in the dark glass, remembering how he had once referred to himself as just that.

No. Never.

Since that moment in her cell at Manticore, he had only proven to her time and again that he was only Alec. Funny, but even while they were different, they were still identical. It hadn't been a coincidence that Manticore had found Alec to be most compatible with her as her Breeding Partner—she had always known they were a perfect match.

She had always known that she was somehow destined to love him, too. She traced an imaginary figure on the window pane absent-mindedly. She wasn't blown away from this realization. She had always known. And that was why she had never really left his side through all the years, because she couldn't.

But she had never really let herself love him, either. Because she couldn't. Because it just didn't feel…fair to either Alec or Ben. She smiled sadly as she realized that she had drawn the heart of the Blue Lady onto the window pane.

It was exposed and bleeding.

Just like hers. Because what really hurt her was that she was destined to lose both of them.

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**A/N3**: TO ALL THE READERS AND REVIEWERS, THANKS FOR ALL OF YOUR PATIENCE WITH THIS STORY! (please don't flame me for not resolving anything. It takes me a couple of days to remember the flow of a particular story and recapture the pace and emotion of it. )


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel is not mine…and it makes me cry to know that.

A/N: Well, here's some Alec then. In fact, some Alec angst, but also some Max angst. I'm pretty sure at this point that there's only going to be one more chapter left. I don't know. It's already three chapters longer than intended, so bad me. Thanks for the responses and reviews!

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**CHAPTER 7**

She saw a slight movement in the glass, and a reflection came to view.

"I'm glad you're doing better,"

Max spun around from her position by her window, her heart leaping to her throat. "Me, too." she replied, eyeing Alec warily. This was the first time she had really seen him since waking up. She hadn't been able to face him; hadn't been strong enough to work through the emotional weights around her.

It didn't surprise her that he would decide to show up at four in the morning. It seemed appropriate. He knew that she didn't sleep much, and it was an odd time of night, one that would assure that he would have her attention completely because nobody else would be around.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully, as if trying to decide what to say that wouldn't upset the tenuous balance of their fractured relationship. And in those spare moments of silence, Max took the time to look at him.

Life had seemed to go on a fast-forward pace since the destruction of Manticore and the exposure of the Transgenics. She couldn't remember the last time she had slowed down enough to really look at what was left around her.

Now that the war was a thing of the past, she was starkly aware of how precious little she had left in her life. War didn't just take its toll through the casualty count. It strained relationships, buried what little humanity was left in her, destroyed idealism, and somewhere along the way, it had even robbed her of her will to live.

But Alec had stayed constant by her side. And now that she knew things were nearing the end…she wanted to remember him, just the way he looked right at this moment.

She just stared at him, her face coolly blank, as if looking at a piece of art. She had known, in a detached way, that Alec was beautiful. Time only added character and strength to his face, neither of which took away from his beauty. He seemed much bigger, too, having lost the lankiness of youth, to be replaced by the strength that comes with age. She tilted her head slightly and walked closer to him, to see him up close.

To look at the wariness and the weariness in those green-gold eyes. To let her eyes outline the jaw that seemed wider and stronger. To see the lines of laughter and tears around his eyes and mouth. To take in the fact that his hair had grown darker with age, a light brown instead of his dark blond.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes narrowing warily.

_Memorizing you, _she thought sadly. But she smiled at him instead and shrugged lightly. "Checking you out," she joked.

But his eyes didn't sparkle with its usual amusement. In fact, the light seemed to die in their hazel depths. "That's not funny, Max," he said coldly, the edges of his lips drawn tight, exposing small dimples on each side.

Her smiled died on her lips. She looked down at her hands, instead. How could she have been so stupid as to say something like that? Flirtatious banter was no longer a part of who they were. It was no longer a part of where she had drawn the lines between them when she had adamantly told him that she couldn't accept his love.

To do this now, was nothing short of cruel.

And yet, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes still on her hands, clutched together in discomfort. "I'm sorry," she whispered. She slowly raised her eyes up to meet his again, and was struck by a sudden realization.

How could she have been so blind all these years? He was a different man. There was no longer a trace of Ben in his face.

Ben would always be twenty, young, wild, feral and beautiful.

Alec had long since outgrown Ben. They were no longer identical. She felt a slow smile tease its way onto her face, lighting up her eyes. She noticed the apprehensive look on his face, the way he pressed his lips together to accentuate those dimples.

Funny, but she never remembered Ben having those dimples. She grinned even wider, her whole body suddenly feeling lighter.

"What?" he asked abruptly, his eyes scanning her face, trying to read her. But she knew that there was nothing on her face that he would understand, simply because she had never felt this way before.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time," she admitted softly.

He snorted and shrugged lightly. "Well, I've been here everyday for six years," he said. "And _I_ saw _you_ every single one of those days."

"Alec, don't—"

"Don't what?" he cut her off. "Don't love you? Yeah, I got that the first time you told me."

"That's not what I meant," she whispered achingly, her heart suddenly beating just a little bit faster. It was suddenly really painful standing here in front of him, his green eyes staring deeply into hers, completely masked yet still intense. She was suddenly filled with the fear that…she was too late. That she had realized too late who exactly Alec was. "I'm sorry." She said abruptly.

"What for?" he asked blandly.

"I…" she paused, licking her lips and looking away from him. "I don't know. I just _feel_ sorry." She answered truthfully, her gaze locking with his again.

The lightness and freedom that had encompassed her just a few heartbeats ago was gone. Replaced by a feeling that was threatening to steal the air from her lungs, to push tears into falling down her face, to make her feel like dead weights were tied to her legs, anchoring her to the ground.

She saw him clench his jaw so tightly that a vein protruded on the side of his neck. She watched, riveted, as it beat to the rhythm of his heart. "You feel sorry for me," he sighed, finally. It wasn't a question, but a statement. And out with it came a sense of bone-deep weariness.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he raised his hand to silence her. "I get it, Max, okay. I get it."

She shook her head. "I don't feel sorry _for_ you. Look, I just..." she couldn't find the words to express just how she felt. She looked at him helplessly and shook her head, her eyes begging him to understand. But of course, she knew that it was a tall order. She didn't even understand it herself.

There was a long pause, but finally he massaged the back of his neck and sighed, "I just stopped by to see if you were okay. I gotta go now."

"It's four in the morning, and you came to see me!" she burst out. "It has to mean something…" she trailed off weakly.

"You don't sleep, Max." he sighed heavily as if that were the only explanation for dropping in unexpectedly at such an unconventional hour.

"Well, neither have you," she whispered, seeing the tiredness in his eyes. She gently reached up and touched his jaw. He flinched as if she had slapped him instead.

"Max, what do you think you're doing?" he asked warily, stepping away from her so she could no longer touch him.

"I want to tell you the truth," she whispered.

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Alec walked into the open door of Max's bedroom. He had avoided her for almost three weeks, only catching glimpses of her as she went through physical therapy to regain the use of her muscles. He had wanted to be there for her, to catch her every time she fell.

But of course, he had stayed away.

"Some guy with Ben's face?" she whispered against the window.

Alec's breath caught in the back of his throat. _Ben. _It was still Ben. Maybe he shouldn't have come at all. Maybe…but she had already seen his reflection on the glass.

"I'm glad you're doing better." He said, by way of a greeting.

She was standing by the window, staring down at the street. Joshua told him that she had been doing that a lot, as if she could find answers somewhere out there. She spun around to look at him, an inscrutable expression on her face.

"Me, too." She replied, her voice soft and measured. She smiled slightly at him, and he felt his lips quirk back.

There was a lengthening silence, with Max just staring at him. Her deep brown eyes moved over his features carefully. He could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck rise with her close scrutiny. _What was she trying to see in him?_

_Ben?_

Alec felt the familiar stab in his heart. As hard as _she_ tried, she would never really find Ben in him. And as much as _he_ tried not to, he would always look like Ben. He schooled his features into a blank mask and stared at her warily, studying her back.

She looked so much better since those days in the hospital. He wanted to touch her smooth skin, to trace the features on her face, to hold her close and feel her heart beating steadfastly. He wanted to feel the warmth of her around him, to revel in the fact that she was alive.

But her face was blank. Her eyes were still tired, old. As if there were too many ghosts lurking behind and she was weary from fighting them off.

Alec recognized those ghosts. They were burdens that they carried from the war. He had his own ghosts that haunted him in his sleep, but they were not nearly as heavy as hers. She had lost _everything_ to the war. Even before the war, she had slowly started to lose pieces of her life to serve the purposes of the Transgenics.

Many times along the way, in the last five years, Max had lost her humanity. Being a leader of almost messianic proportions required that she be capable of superhuman acts. But what was tragic was, she had never been allowed to slip back into the girl that she had been. Too many eyes watched her every move, too many people expected more from her.

She started to move closer towards him. Alec wanted to step back, away from her. It wasn't fear; it was self-preservation. Max only ever broke his heart, but he had stayed because he had believed that she had needed him throughout the war. But the war was over…he could walk away now. But instead, he held his ground as she drew closer. _Old habits die hard. _Walking away from Max still didn't come easily.

"What are you doing?" he asked her warily, his voice sounding a little strangled to his own ears. She was too close, and she was looking at him too intently, like she wanted to see his soul.

There was a heartbeat's pause before she smiled slightly, "Checking you out," she joked.

If it had been three weeks ago, Alec would have flirted right back. If it had been three weeks ago, Alec would have wondered if she saw something more in him than just her friend. If it had been three weeks ago, Alec might have kissed her right then and there.

But now, he just felt like she had punched straight through his chest cavity and torn his heart out. "That's not funny, Max," he heard himself say coolly and calmly, even though inside he was a riot. It was a joke all right. But the joke was on him. He was a joke for falling for her in the first place knowing that there was nothing she wanted from him.

Immediately, he saw the small smile disappear from her face. He took a small sense of satisfaction in hurting her. It was cruel, he knew, to be glad of such a thing. But he had been reduced to something as petty as that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at her hands, wringing them in discomfort. A part of him still wanted to say that it was okay. To forgive her because she hadn't really known. It wasn't like she had planned to make him love her. It wasn't like he had planned to fall for her either.

But it had happened…and here they were.

Max raised her eyes to his, and Alec was struck by the way her lids widened, and her pupils dilated. She looked like she was seeing something that thoroughly but pleasantly shocked her. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder, because her eyes were glued to him. He didn't understand what those eyes were saying, what that smile meant. She had never looked at him like that before.

He was suddenly concerned that maybe she had regressed. He was suddenly afraid that she was smiling like that again because he reminded her of Ben.

"What?" he asked her abruptly, sharply, unable to mask the edge of pain from his voice.

"I feel like I haven't really seen you for a long, long time." She admitted, her voice soft and husky to his ears. He also heard a small note of sadness.

That was the last thing he had expected Max to say. He snorted and shrugged lightly. "Well, I've been here everyday for six years," he said. "And _I_ saw _you_ every single one of those days." And by God, he did. He had watched her grow stronger, but had still let her lean into his own strength. He had watched her lose friends and family, but had still stayed next to her to remind her that he was still around. He had watched her die, and had desperately pulled her back. And now, he could only watch as she pushed him away, so he could no longer see her.

"Alec, don't—" she started to say. Maybe he had let some of his own despair slip into his voice.

Bitterness and weariness merged so that he cut her off. "Don't what? Don't love you? Yeah, I got that the first time you told me." His voice was taut with containing his pain. He could still remember walking out of that room, hearing her voice, _Don't love me, Alec. You can't._

It hadn't even been a rejection. It was outright denial. She hadn't even wanted him in the same room anymore. She hadn't even wanted to see his face. In that moment, he felt the resurfacing heat of the old anger that he shared his brother's face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He could hear that she was sorry in the way her voice trembled. "What for?" he asked blandly, refusing to allow emotion to bleed into his voice. He didn't really want to hear an answer. He was just going through the motions.

"I…" she paused, licking her lips and looking away from him. "I don't know. I just _feel_ sorry."

Alec clenched his jaw so tightly that it hurt to near-shattering. "You feel sorry for me," he sighed painfully. There it was. The whole story. He had always wondered why Max had kept him around in her life.

She felt sorry for him. She pitied him. He wanted nothing more than to run, to ease the choking feeling in his chest. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but he raised his hand to silence her. "I get it, Max, okay. I get it."

She shook her head. "I don't feel sorry _for_ you. Look, I just..." she trailed off in frustration. Alec waited for her to finish her statement. For an excuse, anything, to explain that she didn't feel sorry for him. But none were forthcoming. There was nothing more left to say, apparently.

He sighed and massaged the back of his neck to ease the tension there. "I just stopped by to see if you were okay. I gotta go now." Walking away may not be easy, but it could still be done.

Her lips quirked and he paused, unable to leave, still wanting to see her smile. "It's four in the morning, and you came to see me!" she yelled abruptly. "It has to mean something…"

Of course, it meant something. Who else would his sleepless nights demand to see? Who else would he search for in the dead of night for some semblance of feeling at home? "You don't sleep, Max," he replied with a resigned sigh, pointing out the most innocuous reason for seeking her out.

She was so close to him that he could smell her. She smelled like cherry lip balm and oranges. "Neither have you," she whispered, as she laid a hand gently on his face.

Alec flinched. He couldn't help it. Her touch was now something that he couldn't bear because he knew that it would only reinforce feelings that he had to get rid of. He knew that she was only seeing someone that she felt pity for. "What do you think you're doing, Max?" he demanded.

"I want to tell you the truth," she whispered.

He reared from her and shook his head. _The truth about what? _

"I want to tell you about Ben," she started.

Immediately, Alec felt himself emotionally shut down at the sound of his twin's name. He felt his shields come up, his face go blank, and his eyes go unseeing. But Max took his face in between her palms and forced him to look at her. Into her pleading eyes.

"I want to tell you about me. About Ben and me…"

He opened his mouth to say something flippant, to stop her from saying anything that would send him to his knees. But she put a hand over his mouth. He groaned inwardly because he just wanted to kiss her palm. But before he could even formulate another thought, the rest of her statement sent him reeling.

"…and then…when I'm done…I want to know if you still love me," she whispered. "Because I love you so much, but you deserve to know the truth first."

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